good to go

trasteverde

readygogo — Sat, 7 Jul 2007 10:56:00 GMT

Like a contented old lady, Trasteverde reclines along the banks of Rome's Tiber River, content to let the rest of Rome frantically modernize with fancy salons, and the latest electonic gadgetry. The narrow cobble stoned street, the tall buildings, the balconies almost touching, the dozens of cafes and small shops, the smell of bakeries, and the great night life, make Trasteverde a place to stay forever.

no rain in spain

readygogo — Thu, 14 Jul 2005 15:24:00 GMT

Dr. Doolittle had it all wrong: there was no rain in Spain. From Madrid to Cordoba, to Seville, Malaga, Nerja, to Grananda and back to Madrid, there was no rain only scorching, desert-like heat, and an unforgiving sun to burn native and tourist alike. Yet it was beautiful; the castles, the churches, the Alhambra; the Prado,the music, gorgeous ceramics and pottery; the food was delicious and the air conditioning an oasis for the weary, foot sore tourist. We did it all; planes, trains, buses and cabs. We had a wonderful time; but, a little rain would have been nice

God is green

readygogo — Wed, 6 Jul 2005 11:13:00 GMT

Surely God is green or why else would He have made Ireland so beautiful with such brilliant and varied shades of green. Get out of Dublin town, with its Guiness Beer, pubs, and crowded streets; the poor, little Liffy River, lost between the tourist and Dubliners all hurrying to somewhere or the other. Walk Grafton Street and see Jame Joyce's statue, see the Book of Kell, and have a picnic in Stephen's Green, see Oscar Wilde upon the rock; walk the streets and see all the Georgian buildings with their painted doors; visit all the sights then get out of town to see the best of Ireland. Go to Dingle,first catch the train from Dublin to Tralee, then the bus over the mountains to Dingle and enjoy the green mountains and sparkling silver bays. Stay at a Bed and Breakfast; eat an Irish Breakfast, watch the tide come and go; catch a boat to the Blaskett Islands; watch the cold Atlantic waves crash and beat against the stubborn Irish coast; visit a different pub every night; drink too much beer; sing too many songs about lost love, leaving dear Old Ireland and your Irish mother; sing about the cruel British and the brave IRA; stumble back to your room swearing never to touch a drop of liquor again, then wait for the next night so you can do it all again. Then remembering the green hills and shadowed valleys, the checkerboad fields, and the ever-present rain, that makes the green of Ireland turn to shimmering emerald and search for your shamrock. Return home with a wee bit of Irish in your soul.

London Christmas

readygogo — Wed, 26 Dec 1990 12:50:00 GMT

It was a large heavy box wrapped in green and red paper and felt like a practical gift of pots and pans; or a blender or set of dishes. Instead, hidden beneath the stuffing and weights was a small envlope with two airline tickets to London for two weeks. The suprise, the excitement was more than extraodinary; it was incredulous. We were off to London for the holidays and the chance to spend New Year's Eve in Trafalgar Square, ride the red double-decked buses; visit Westminister Abbey, Buckingham Palace, watch the changing of the guards, visit Windsor Castle, see London Bridge, ride a boat of the Thames, wander through Victoria Station; go to Dover and see the White Cliffs; catch P&O ferry to Calais for the Day; drink French wine and eat hundreds of croissants; spend a night in a B&B on the Coast and watch the cold grey wind tossed British Channel. Then back to London to eat greasy fish and chips; see a movie, wander through the British Museum for hours visit the National Portrail Gallery; and, at last find a quiet, Italian restaurant at Picadilly Circle to enjoy some rest, and quiet and a good meal. Then back home to the five kids who were less than eager to here about our trip.

greece first adventure

readygogo — Sun, 8 May 1988 03:27:00 GMT

This was our first trip abroad. A long, long flight, missed connections, left us tired, irritable, and suffering from jet-lag and wondering if we should have gone to Niagara Falls instead. But, upon landing in Athens everything changed. We stayed at the five-star Grand Bretainia hotel on Sygtama Square, right in the heart of Athens and right next to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier; we walked the Plaka and shopped for sourvenirs,etc. Spent the day at the Acropolis, the National Museum, the site of the Olympics, had lunch on top of Lacbeyas Hill overlooking Athens; paid thirty-six dollars for two hamburgers and two cokes; and did the tourist thing. We went on a cruise to the inlands of Aegina, Hydra, and Poros (which we loved.) We took a bus ride along the coast to Cape Sunion and swam naked in the ocean. Then to Myknanos, the island of Greek windmills, sapphire blue waters, white houses with red and blue and green doors, colorfully painted fishing boats, a public toilet with a hole in the floor, great seafood restaurants, and of course Paradise Beach, the nude beach were we got sunburned all over and I mean all over. We took a cab over the mountains past Delphi with a French couple to spend the day back at Poros and found a room overlooking the bay. We caught the hydrofoil back to Peraenus and sadly left the brilliant sunshine, sparkling white houses, glorious flowers and the bluest waters to return home where didn't have to have reservations.